Chapter 37: Anticipation“Please,” she begged,

  Trembling with—anticipation?—dy backed away, hands still outstretched against the approag threat. The man, Mal, stalked closer. “Don’t….”

  “Excuse me?” The man paused arembled too, with barely restrained rage. “Excuse me?”

  “You don’t,” she tried, her mouth dry. “You just leave, I won’t tell anyone, please….”

  The man grabbed a pte and hurled it against the wall. She jerked as it shattered with a loud crash. “Shut the fuck up!” the man yelled. “I am so fug tired of bitches like you telling me what to do.” He swept a chair out of the way and stormed towards her and there was suddenly nowhere for dy to retreat, the man loomed in front of her and her voice caught ihroat as she found herself backed up against the wall.

  Up close, she saw the stubble and the redness in his eyes, the uhy pallor to his skin and she breathed in his stink, foul-breath of bad teeth and unwashed body. What she’d taken for lean toughness at a distance revealed itself as emaciation up close—beh the stubble his cheekboood in sharp relief, and his eyes were sunken. But he had the strength of anger or desperation as he focused his rage on the young girl.

  dy shook her head in desperation. “I’m not—”

  His sp took her across the cheek, a jarring bloun her head backwards. Pain fred and she tasted blood. Her eyes watered, and then the man against her, his body pressing her up against the wall, stinking breath hot against her nebsp; She felt fear—genuine fear and sick rise ihroat—as she felt the maion through his trousers, prodding her, stabbing for her, as his hand reached for her ned he buried his fato her hair and breathed deeply.

  “Fug t,” he grunted, “You want this.”

  “No,” she whispered.

  But her words were silenced as he forced himself on her, as she—

  Author's Notes

  If you like my work and would like to support it, check out: patreon./fakeminsk.

  Or just leave a ents or some feedback, believe me, it's appreciated!